


Oreg-oh-no

by StrawhatsAndDelibirds



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawhatsAndDelibirds/pseuds/StrawhatsAndDelibirds
Summary: Eighth grade is hard and drug identification is harder





	Oreg-oh-no

His dad was always on his case about every little thing. “Due dates are there for a reason”, “stop picking at your face”, “you can’t wear the same hoodie for a month straight”, and so many more stupid things. It was like everything that he did just wasn’t enough for Hugo. And yet the asshole wondered why he hated him. He couldn’t help but think that the feeling was mutual, because if it wasn’t, Hugo wouldn’t be on his ass all the time.

But he had to do laundry he guessed. There was only so many times you could wear the same clothes before he had to wash them. Body spray only went so far. Even though he’d rather just stay this way to piss Hugo off, he had to admit that his clothes were getting dirty. There was a limit to how much food and dirt you could get on your clothes before it was too gross, and there was only so many times he could use his hoodie as a shirt because he was going to run the risk of forgetting there was no shirt underneath and getting in dress code problems.

He wasn’t going to separate shit. If that wasn’t an issue before, it wouldn’t be an issue now. He looked at the floor and then at the basket. This was going to be such a pain, he was going to have to do at least two loads of laundry and it was such bullshit. He didn’t even know he had this many clothes. There was probably still some in the bathroom. This was going to take the whole evening and this was such bullshit.

Since he was doing laundry anyways, he might as well wash his hoodie. It’d be two birds with one stone, and it’d get Hugo off his ass about it being dirty. He set down the basket and pulled off the hoodie and tossed it onto the pile. If it made it through the first load then it’d be clean for school tomorrow and then he wouldn’t be stuck without his hoodie and wouldn’t have to fake sick to miss class.

He threw his clothes in the washing machine, more shoving them in there than anything. If he was going to have to do laundry, he was going to get the most out of this. He didn’t want to spend the whole evening stuck doing a bunch of half loads. Fuck that.

“Ernest, I’m glad that you’re doing laundry, but you shouldn’t fill the washing machine up that much. Your clothes won’t get as clean, and they’re not going to dry if it’s that full.” Hugo lectured, sticking his head in the laundry room. Ernest let his head fall back as he groaned in annoyance.

“I know how to do laundry, Hugo.” Ernest said, more interested in staring at the ceiling than looking at Hugo. He was such a pain in the ass.

“I was just trying to help.” Hugo put his hands up defensively. He tossed the pod in and set the washer going. “Did you remember to empty your pockets before you put your stuff in?”

“Oh my god! Do you just want to do it for me? Because I can’t do it right I guess.” Ernest threw up his arms, getting up off the floor.

“I’m just reminding you. I’ve washed more than a couple important things because I forgot to check.”

“What? But you’re so perfect Hugo? I can’t imagine you forgetting to do something like that?” Ernest’s voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ernest. Don’t give me that tone. I’m just trying to help.”

“And I’m just trying to do laundry but I guess I don’t do it good enough.” He said, watching as Hugo bit back the urge to correct him. They both knew that it was supposed to be well enough but it was more about pissing Hugo off. He didn’t care about saying things right, but he did care about getting under Hugo’s skin.

“Alright. I’ll leave you to it then.” Hugo still looked like he was bothered, but he was going to leave it be. Thank god. Hugo left and went back to whatever he was doing before.

Suddenly he remembered something important. He opened the washer and fished through his laundry, a little agitated that it was stuffed full of stupid clothes. Where the hell was his hoodie, he just remembered he forgot to clear out his pockets before he threw it in there. He left his weed in his pocket and it was going to end up going everywhere and it was going to be a pain because he was going to have to and buy more weed. Lucien had good prices, but he was going to mock him for going to buy more so soon.

He spotted the familiar orange fabric after dumping half the clothes from the washer on the floor, and he yanked it out. He checked the pockets for the little bag. Why the hell couldn’t he-

“Ernest Hemingway Vega.” Godammit. Now shit was going to hit the fan. It was going to be like that time he burned down the Christiansen’s lawn. Except for so much worse, Hugo was such a narc.

“What is this?” He asked, blocking the doorway and holding his bag of weed out. He wished he had his hoodie on so he could shove his hands into his pockets. He had to settle with his pants pocket.

“I dunno. You know everything. You tell me.” He was already in shit, it didn’t matter how much of an asshole he acted now. His fate was already sealed. The bag of weed on the other hand, was not. Ernest saw a little fly out as his father lightly shook it in a failed attempt to control the anger he felt.

“Ernest Hemingway Vega I thought I raised you better than this. You’re barely thirteen and you’re-” Hugo stopped. He looked at the bag and then sniffed it. His expression changed completely, and Ernest had no fucking idea of what that meant. 

Hugo covered his mouth with a closed fist. If he was going to complain about the smell he was going to actually lose it. It didn’t smell that bad. It even smelled pretty good if you asked him. Even if him and Hugo didn’t agree on anything, that was entirely fact based.

The next sound that came out of Hugo was a snorting sound. Oh my god, he couldn’t be that stupid could he? He knew that old people were out of the loop, but he couldn’t be so out of the loop that he thought you snorted weed. Also why the fuck was he snorting his weed, he could get his own!

But the snort soon gave way to giggles as he watched his dad laugh about some joke that he wasn’t a part of. Ernest was sure he heard of this. This was the placebo effect, and his dad must’ve just thought he was high because he smelled weed but it was just his brain messing with him. Did he take advantage of this to use as blackmail later, or did he stop Hugo from doing anything that’d be embarrassing to him? 

“Oreg-oh-no! I’m going to have to have a talk with my son about the differences between weed and oregano.” Hugo wheezed as he leaned on the doorway for support.

Mortified, Ernest silently promised to get his revenge on Lucien. He was going to get him back, mark his words.


End file.
